


Are You Scared?

by Meg97



Series: Kingdom Hearts Drabble Prompts. [23]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M, NSFW, delinquent au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 16:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16099022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meg97/pseuds/Meg97
Summary: Red-orange bleeds against skin of bronze porcelain – yet those eyes burn acidic, forcing eye contact in a way that ( internally admitting to himself ), he doesn’t quite want to leave.





	Are You Scared?

**Author's Note:**

> Technically it's Lea/Riku given they're 18 but, in this AU, he goes by Axel as opposed to Lea - so dw bout it.

He’s not sure where his cigarette’s gone, pried from his hand ( without much resistance ) with a heavy cry of his mattress, but such words breathed hotly against the full of his lips surely would’ve crunched it between his fingers.

Maybe it’s the nicotine making its way through his system, or merely the proximity with which Axel’s so boldly dared to bring himself, knee firmly planted between Riku’s own legs, upper body leaning so their faces are only inches from each other, shadowed by the dying shades of dusk from his left-hand bedside window.

Red-orange bleeds against skin of bronze porcelain – yet those eyes burn acidic, forcing eye contact in a way that ( internally admitting to himself ), he doesn’t quite want to leave.

( Somewhere in the back of his mind, he makes delayed note of the fact his cigarette’s been stubbed out on his bedstand ashtray to his right, remaining wisps of addiction lost to stuffy bedroom air. Or maybe that heat is just him, or his imagination. )

He can’t swallow, can’t move a muscle for fear of the headboard against his back protesting with the shift in weight – as if sound will break this little moment, shatter it into a million pieces they’ll never retrieve.

He kind of wants to punch him too, honestly.

_**“Fuck you.”** _

Coy bastard, with an even more coy smirk against one corner of his lips, wicked and daring and so many other things.  
His words don’t seem to help - he can already feel the response reeling off of Axel’s tongue before he’s even said anything, and really—-

( Would it be so wrong of him to just shut him up right then and there, tongue or lip between his teeth, crimson strands against his fingers? )

It’s a whole different kind of addiction.  
Far more deadly, way more dangerous.

_“Wouldn’t you like that.”_

It’s not even a question, which sparks a bit of fury, breath hotter against his lips for a second before they’re captured whole.  
As if he couldn’t get any bolder ( with Axel, it seems, there’s always room for more ), he’s aware of a palm beside his head, pressed hard against the wall —- and even more hyperaware of the one previously discarding his half-used cigarette, gliding up his knee and toward his inner thigh, seemingly content to linger  _just_  out of reach.

Definitely  _addictive_.  
Definitely  **dangerous**.

The window’s tightly clasped closed, door firmly locked – maybe that’s what’s causing the heavy thrumming in his chest, adrenaline through his veins.

It’s breathing deeply through his nose that makes him realise his eyes are closed, eyelashes fluttering against his own a keen indication of Axel having done the same. Once upon a time, there might’ve been a clumsy clack of teeth - but they know each other too well, now, their strengths &. weaknesses &. vices, that all there is in the silence is the shift of clothes with the occasional smack of wet lips.

When had they gotten into this situation —-  _?_  
It’s difficult to remember ; both because of the moment at hand and because, in general, it had been a spontaneous thing – born on adrenaline and borderline idiocy, and festering into whatever  _this_  was.

It’s with a hot shiver down his spine, movement so Axel’s forearm presses against the wall above Riku’s head and pushes him closer, that he remembers Axel can do stupidly good things with his tongue – toying with his own and along his bottom lip, eliciting the smallest trill of a sound in the back of his throat.

Were it anyone else, he wouldn’t dare show something they could interpret as weakness – but Axel’s always been some kind of weird exception to every rule he’s ever seemed to have.

Maybe it’s because he’s a bit cruel, or because he knows Axel can take it - but there’s no remorse in carding crimson strands through his hands, fingers digging tight near the scalp and  _tugging_  so there’s even less room to wiggle and breathe.

_**“Fuck.”** _

Axel might be a twig, but he’s tall enough that even when he gives up on the wall and simply seats himself so the mattress screeches, it really just gives him all the more advantage. Even with their groins only parted by minimal air space and jeans, the fire-eyed youth still has half a head on him - and the thought makes Riku scowl, just for a second, cruel snickering coupling an answer to a question he hasn’t asked.

_“Well, yeah,”_

Axel’s changed up his game plan, it seems, fiery flames brushing the curve of Riku’s jaw as his lips draw further down, sending hot shivers down his spine with each calculated, intentional kiss, burning trails and leaving purple welts in their wake.

Riku knows he’s lost – when he’s not the one to start it, this is the only kind of fight in which he’ll accept defeat - if only temporary, soon seeking revenge,

_“that’s kind of the point.”_


End file.
